


Kitchen Goddess

by Rinkafic



Series: Misc Fanfic [17]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is one of three stories done for Farscapeland's "I Hate Therefore I am" challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitchen Goddess

They thought she was their prisoner. Because she let them think that way, it suited her, as the situation also suited her. She had shelter, protection, and most importantly, transportation. If the Peacekeepers needed to put the label of prisoner upon her head in order to make it all happen, then so be it. She had been called many, many things in her long lifetime, prisoner was hardly the worst. Captivity was only as uncomfortable as one chose to make it.

Noranti had chosen this course of action, and therefore was not bothered in the slightest by the situation. She was eventually allowed to work in the galley preparing food, which was an opportunity for her to exercise her culinary skills as well as taste new things, and so she was pleased with the duties. There were many new things to taste in this galley; this ship was traveling through a sector on the outskirts of the settled territories, one that was unfamiliar to Noranti.

The other workers in the galley gave her plenty of room to work, they obviously respected her abilities, after seeing her methods and tasting the results of her recipes. She had enough materials to work with and enough privacy that she was able to whip up a few batches of elixir and some potions that she could trade later, should the need for trade goods arise. The need always came up eventually, and so she would be prepared. For some reason, the Peacekeepers had stopped the practice of searching her person each time she was escorted back to her sleeping place, and so she was able to carry her little balls of potion from the kitchen to her cell when her work detail was ended. The arrangement satisfied her.

There was a bit of unpleasantness, a to-do over the preparation of some fresh meat that had come through the galley. Apparently the herbs and spices Noranti had chosen to use in the marinate had not agreed with the delicate constitutions of the command staff. She briefly considered leaving the ship during the resulting uproar and finger pointing and the loud accusations. The word ‘witch’ was tossed around a little too frequently for Noranti’s liking, and it was not being used in a respectful manner. Leaving the ship at that point would have been inconvenient, and so reluctantly, to sooth over the fuss, she promised to avoid the use of the more potent spices in the pantry in the future. She was allowed to retain her position in the kitchens.

Being outside the regular shipping lanes and far from the supply lines, the Peacekeeper ship supplemented the protein rations of the crew by stopping at various planets and sending out hunting parties. It kept the pistol-happy soldier types happy by allowing them to shoot at moving targets, and it made Noranti giddy with delight because they brought her new things to taste. The other galley workers deferred completely to her wise judgment in the matter of cooking anything new, leaving all the preparations up to her.

The latest find was certainly a puzzlement, even to her experienced culinary mind. Noranti stood staring at the beast the landing party had brought back and plunked down on the galley work table. It was as long any member of the crew was tall. A large bulbous head stood so high on the table that Noranti could not reach the top of it, even with her longest spoon when she stood on her toes. The outer casing of it was hard; it made a dull ‘thunk’ when rapped with her spoon. This only made her more determined to open it, for in her experience, hard shells often protected delectable innards. She decided to try steaming it open. It took four kitchen workers to wrangle the beast into the arrangement of steaming trays Noranti had prepared. Since the shell would be removed, she did not bother wasting any spices on it. She would wait until the shell was opened to decide how to season the meat.

Excited by the prospect of so much tasty meat, she stood near the head, occasionally tapping it with her spoon to see if it was opening yet. The water bubbled in the trays and the steam rose. She chastised the other workers when they backed away to the edges of the kitchen, telling them the steam would help open and cleanse their pores, but they paid her no mind. Noranti breathed deeply, inhaling the steamy air.

There was a loud sound, an odd echoing ‘plunk’ that emitted from the steam clouded area around the stove, followed by a deep groan. She thought that it had been the sound of the shell casing releasing and falling open. Stepping closer to start at the real work of cooking, Noranti squinted through the steam, waving it aside with one hand.

Her assumption was correct, the shell was open. She blinked in surprise when she saw a triple row of teeth running around the entire circumference of the gaping maw. Her last conscious thought was that those teeth would be very efficient at tearing and grinding.

Then the maw was moving towards her and in short order, she found out exactly how efficient for feeding the teeth were for the formerly slumbering beast.

 

The End


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